


Tedium

by drbubblegum



Category: Karneval
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-27
Updated: 2014-06-27
Packaged: 2018-02-09 12:00:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1982193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drbubblegum/pseuds/drbubblegum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jiki's an elite, but even the best can have a rough start.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tedium

**Author's Note:**

  * For [silveryogis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silveryogis/gifts).



> This is a birthday fic for the ever lovely and fabulous [Katie](http://kiichis.tumblr.com). Go love on her she's amazing. A+++++

When he first steps off onto the landing pad, Jiki can’t help but feel a sigh of relief. Living in an airship takes some getting used to, and there’s nothing quite like the feel of solid ground beneath his feet. He hears Tsukitachi laugh.

"Good to be on the ground, huh?"

Jiki shrugs and smiles. “Pretty obvious, I guess.”

"Yeah, I remember how it is first starting out," Tsukitachi replies, patting Jiki’s shoulder too hard. "You’ll get used to the ship soon, though. There’s nothing quite like flying."

Jiki just hums in agreement. There really isn’t, not when it’s just him and the air whipping around him, catching in his hair, his sweater, anything that’s loose. He likes how it feels up there, even in the clamminess of a cloud. Birds are so lucky to know that feeling whenever they want. To be able to stretch their wings and try to touch the sun.

Sighing, Jiki shakes off the momentary flight of fancy. He takes a step forward, ready to finally become a full-fledged member of Circus’s elite. It’s not everyday a fresh graduate of Kuronomei is selected for the First Ship after all.

* * *

Jiki sits in the Research Tower’s lobby, waiting for this  _Akari-chan_  that Tsukitachi keeps talking about to come fetch him for his examination. Or a nurse. He crosses his legs and puts an elbow on his knee, tapping his fingers against his chin. There’s a holoscreen on the far end of the room, replaying some old news. Every now and then someone will stop and watch it for a few minutes before hurrying off to wherever they’re supposed to be.

How tedious.

He uncrosses his legs and sits back in the vinyl-covered chair. His fingers continue tapping on the tops of his thighs. Jiki just wants this to be  _over_. Because once this doctor gave the okay, it means he got the job. It means he’ll have something—

The only warning he gets is a panicked yell before someone falls into his lap. Jiki tries to sit up, to push they guy  _off_  because hello, yes this seat is already taken, go have a panic attack somewhere  _else_. But somehow before Jiki can get more than three syllables out of his mouth, he’s been booted out of his seat and there’s a shivering, blond-haired mess curled around himself exactly where Jiki’s ass had been half a second earlier.

"You can’t just—"

"He’s got a needle! A needle and he’s coming after me! But I’ve been good, he’s not listening, _don’t let him find me_!”

Jiki bites the tip of his tongue to keep himself from slapping an obviously mentally ill patient upside the head. He’s an elite, he reminds himself. Elites don’t pick on the weak.

But that doesn’t mean Jiki’s required to pity them. Or coddle them.

"I was sitting there," Jiki manages to say.

The guy just wriggles around, keeping his face hidden under his forearms.

"Just take the injection."

His head shakes back and forth. Jiki squints at just how bright his hair is as it bounces on his neck.

"They don’t even hurt. Just a pinch."

"No. No it’s  _different_.” Finally he looks up, glassy eyes and tearstains on his face. A cheek with a small patch. And still he’s simply brilliant. “This one’s—it’s—I get all muzzy, I can’t think straight.”

"It’s medicine."

He bites his lip. “I know.”

"It’s for your own good."

His jaw firms, and if his expression wasn’t so wrecked from fear, Jiki would say he’s trying to glare at him. “I’ve been  _told_.”

Jiki’s mouth presses together tightly for a second. Then he closes his eyes and smiles. “Well if you’re going to hide, there’s a mop closet just past the nurse’s station. Third door on the left.”

"Ah, th—Thank you!"

He hears cloth rustling and boots tapping on the linoleum floor, headed in the direction of the nurse’s station. Jiki opens his eyes again, and everything’s gone dull again.

* * *

Jiki does his best not to stare at his captain. “A field trip?”

"Mm," Tsukitachi grins and drains his glass of wine. "A field trip with Ship Two, no less. Not too shabby for your first mission."

"You just—a mission isn’t a field trip, Tsukitachi-san."

His captain just kicks his feet up on the table and grins. “You’ll like Ship Two.”

* * *

There’s a camaraderie between all of them that Jiki doesn’t have. The captains are smiling and exchanging quips with one another. Rishiana and the other ship’s female agent are chatting easily. Jiki pushes his glasses back up his nose.

That’s nice and all, being friends with one’s co-workers, but there is a job to be done, thanks. 

"Ah, you must be Jiki-kun!"

Jiki turns on his heel to find that bright voice. “I am—wait, you’re supposed to be in a psychiatric ward.”

It’s the blond mess from the Research Tower. Only now he’s standing straight and smiling, and Jiki thanks every deity he can remember for these glasses, otherwise he’d be blinded.

"Psychiatric Wa— _Oh!_ " He flushes and throws his hands up in front of him. "No, no, that was just—I don’t do well with doctors, see! It was just my monthly check up with Akari-sensei! I’m not a resident of the Tower anymore, you see!"

Jiki blinks, willing the pleasant expression to stay on his face.  _Anymore?_

"Oh! Right! I’m Yogi! From Ship Two." Yogi holds his hand out, smiling wide.

"Nice to meet you."

"Let’s do our best!"

Jiki shades his eyes with his hand and laughs. “Yeah.”

* * *

It’s a surveillance mission this time. He and Yogi lean together in the shadows of an alley, watching a man suspected of being a high-ranking member of Kafka. Watching and waiting for him to make a misstep. So far it’d been a whole day of nothing.

"Jiki-kun," Yogi whispers, leaning just a little closer.

Jiki pushes his glasses up his nose. “Yeah?”

He feels Yogi’s mouth open. There’s hot air on his ear that hadn’t been there a moment ago. Jiki takes a careful breath in and holds it.

There’s the quiet click of Yogi’s teeth as he closes his mouth. Yogi stays silent. After a moment, Jiki turns his head a little. “What is it, Yogi-kun?”

"Uh—Um, I’m older than you, you know!"

Jiki almost frowns. “Is that you trying to tell me to stop calling you ‘Yogi-kun’?”

Yogi waits another minute, eyes dropping down to the water draining down the middle of the alley. “No. No, sorry. It wasn’t.”

"I’m not offended."

"No, I like it!" Yogi blurts out. "I—No one’s ever called me ‘Yogi-kun’ before you. I—I like it. It’s nice."

"Alright. Yogi-kun." Jiki turns back to find their mark, still sitting at his desk in front of the window. He sighs. "No try not to attract too much attention."

"It’s nice," Yogi repeats softly.

A few minutes pass, and he feels Yogi lean closer again. “You’re nice, Jiki-kun.”

Jiki doesn’t reply. Just tucks his chin down and smiles.

* * *

The next mission they share, Jiki’s keen eyes catch how carefully Yogi acts around him. How careful he is to pretend he’s not being careful at all. The way there’s always a hot flush of color on his ears. The deliberate way he leans in just a little too close but not long enough to be inappropriate. 

So it doesn’t surprise him. He thinks it surprises Yogi more than him, when after dinner, as they’re stacking plates up for the bunnies to take to the kitchen, that Yogi leans down a little to press a quick kiss to Jiki’s cheek.

Jiki doesn’t even pause what he’s doing, but Yogi stops completely. Says “um” a couple hundred times. Jiki just works around him, finishing up. And when the last rabbit is toddling its way out of the room, he turns toward Yogi.

Leaning against the table, he puts a hand on his hip. “You know that doesn’t count, right?”

“ _Um—_ ”

"I’ll show you."

Jiki steps toward him, threads his fingers through the loose curls on the back of Yogi’s head, bringing his face down just enough to press their mouths together. He kisses Yogi firmly enough so that he can’t jump away, but not so hard as to bruise. This is just a  _first_  kiss after all. Jiki darts his tongue out to run along Yogi’s bottom lip.

And then Yogi’s pressing back, hands settling carefully on Jiki’s shoulders. He’s clumsy, like he’s never kissed someone before, which is just funny because even  _Jiki_  has kissed someone, but not Yogi? Shining and brilliant  _Yogi_?

He tastes just like the strawberry shortcake they’d had for dessert, and Jiki can’t help but to think that it’s perfect like that. Jiki hums in the back of his throat.

The kiss doesn’t last much longer. Just a first kiss, Jiki reminds himself. So obviously a first kiss. Jiki leans back a little and watches Yogi reorient himself.

His violet eyes blink rapidly, and even when they finally land on Jiki’s face, he still looks dazed. Jiki can’t help the smug grin tugging at his lips.

"Jiki-kun," Yogi breathes.

“ _That_  kiss counts.”

"Yeah."

* * *

It’s weeks before the first and second ships work together on a mission again. Jiki thinks a lot about that kiss. Something he’d done initially out of curiosity. Just to see how Yogi’d react. Or maybe it was to see how he himself reacted. Either way, it was an experiment. Results were inconclusive.

Yogi bounces into the first ship’s lounge, and Jiki has to step on the urge to shade his eyes. He decides more testing is necessary. Yogi curls up on the couch a handbreadth away from him and just  _beams_.

"Jiki-kun!"

Jiki smiles at him. “Good afternoon, Yogi-kun.”

And, predictably, Yogi flushes brightly. But he doesn’t shy away. His spine straightens a little, like he’s mustering his courage for something. “I—I have a question for you Jiki-kun.”

"I’m all ears."

"What do you—What do you think of me?"

Aha. “What do I think of you?”

Yogi nods quickly. His hands grab the edge of the cushion tightly, and he waits. Quiet and still. Except for the crossing and uncrossing of his feet.

"I—" Jiki pauses. Yogi stops and just looks at him. Jiki closes his eyes and smiles. "I think you’re brilliant."


End file.
